Cell Block Tango
by DeMoKa
Summary: A darkfic revolving around Hermione, an evil!psychologist/therapist/psychiatrist, who is "treating" patients in Azkaban. Hermione/various females REALLY BEWARE THE DARK!SMUT & GORE


**Title: **Cell Block Tango

**Pairings: **Hermione/Penelope, Hermione/Narcissa, Hermione/Lavender, Hermione/Luna, Hermione/Parvati, Hermione/Fleur

**Rating: **NC-17

**Summary/Warnings: DARKFIC ALERT! **Hermione visits several female inmates of Azkaban. (written as a homage to Cell Block Tango from the musical Chicago.) Beware the Evil!Hermione.

**I was feeling quite nihilistic when I first started writing this. It seemed to have grown more as I completed it. Well, have a squiz and tell me what you think. You have been warned.**

Hermione Granger had been a young girl with many expectations. She had been destined to do great things. Or so she and her immediate family and friends had thought. She was now outside the bleak, chilly gate of Azkaban. Why was she there? She was there because it was her job. She had somehow ended up studying psychology and criminology. She wanted to understand the reasons why people did such horrible and ghastly things. Yet today, the majority of her patients would be people she knew. People she went to school with.

Contrary to popular belief, Hermione had a very peculiar method of therapy and treatment after she analysed her patients. Her method was unknown by the Ministry of Magic and by the experts at St Mungos. In fact, it was down right illegal, but it worked. Though really, it wasn't unknown, it was just not common nor a method was believed to be effective. Hermione had however, discovered otherwise. To reach the most carnal and primal level of the brain, could one understand the reasoning within the brain that caused murder and other dastardly acts occur.

The guards at Azkaban never reported her because they would use the moans and screams she drew from her patients in their sick fantasies. Her first patient of the day was Penelope Clearwater-Weasley. Penelope had been incarcerated for the murder of her husband Charlie Weasley. Hermione withdrew the story from her over a few days.

'_I can't believe I married you. I could have married Percy! Why did I marry you?'_

_Charlie smirked at her, punctuating his careless words with pops of his gum, 'Cause Perce POP doesn't have my huge POP package POP.'_

_Penelope cringed at the crude sound of the over chewed gum being exploded once more. She had had a terrible day. Despite her efforts, the Ministry of Magic remained an awfully male dominated government. She had been subject to several crude innuendos. In the past she had complained to Charlie who eventually would go and confront the bastards._

_Nowadays he just lounged about on the couch watching old and new footage of Quidditch, apparently unable to function properly due to an injury he suffered from his days in dragon transporting. She knew though, whenever she went to work he would be watching porn, both Muggle and Wizarding. Sometimes she considered herself lucky that he wasn't having an affair, but he didn't have to be to make her want to kill him._

_Like now. A little comfort, even false comfort would be nice. She decided to try and be a happy wife. She snuggled up to him. He popped his gum noisily._

'_Please don't honey. I'm sorry for snapping at you. I've had a bad day.'_

_POP._

_Penelope screamed in frustration, leaping off the couch she stalked over to her purse and withdrew her wand. She transfigured a nearby banana._

'_Charlie. Please don't pop that gum, alright?'_

_Charlie didn't even turn his head to acknowledge his wife. He merely replied with another resounding pop. If he had turned around he may have seen the danger before she fired two warning shots from her banana turned pistol….into his head._

'So, in other words, you've been a neglected housewife. Overworked and underloved. Is that right?' asked Hermione.

Penelope nodded furiously, 'Exactly.'

Hermione suddenly stood up and whispered into Penelope's ear, 'I imagine there is another aspect of you that has been neglected…'

Penelope did not even feel the jab from Hermione's wand into her neck, sending her into a strange trancelike state.

'Do you need me?' inquired Hermione, trailing a finger up Penelope's arm.

Penelope seemed to shiver involuntarily and said rather oddly, 'Please. Have me.'

Her eyelids fluttered to halfway. She gazed at Hermione with an abnormal expression of longing. Hermione stepped away and Penelope stood up. Hermione glanced at the table in the middle of the room, patting it slightly. Penelope lay down upon it, legs spread. Hermione gazed over Penelope's form; she placed her hand a few centimetres above Penelope's body and murmured a spell vanishing her clothes from her body to appear in a neat pile over by her cell bed.

She tweaked the naked nipples, rubbing Penelope's breasts with a mild look of interest in her face. Penelope made little noises of appreciation. As Hermione travelled down her body, hands massaging the flesh, Penelope would arch up to the touch. Finally reaching her nether regions, Hermione blew hard over the neat patch of pale brown. A squeak of surprise left Penelope's quivering lips. Hermione frowned. She placed her finger at Penelope's lips and Penelope licked it eagerly.

Hermione waited only a few seconds before withdrawing her finger and repositioning it at Penelope's lower lips. She pushed her finger on to Penelope's clit and massaged it gently. Penelope responded with a downward push of her hips. Hermione let her finger fall, encountering a slight wetness. She dipped a finger in and out quickly, causing a strangled moan from the brunette on the table. Hermione began to rub her clit, a little more insistently this time. When Penelope was a great deal wetter, Hermione used her other hand and thrust two fingers into the older woman.

A splendid groan exited Penelope's mouth and she began to grind her hips against Hermione's working hands. Hermione eventually was able to bring Penelope to the edge,

'Did you kill your husband Charlie?'

'Please,' came the weak reply.

'Did you murder Charlie Weasley with a transfigured banana?' Hermione was insistent, but the promise of orgasm dripped in her tone.

Penelope nodded while crying, 'Yes, I did it. I killed him. Please, let me…'

Hermione didn't let her finish; the first word had been enough. She thrust her fingers up as far as she could into Penelope while squeezing her clit at the same time.

Hermione cleaned her hands with a spell and reminded her patient to put her clothes back on. Hermione emerged to discover Penelope's guard with his hand down his pants. He spluttered as he retracted his offending hand. Hermione coughed with disgust and moved on the next cell far down the darkened corridor.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

'Mrs Malfoy. Somehow I am not surprised that you are still here,' said Hermione.

Narcissa Malfoy's hair had yet to be cut since she had been imprisoned. The only object in the dank cell was a hairbrush. When Hermione had first seen Narcissa, she had demanded that the brush be taken away so that she wasn't prone to being attacked. However Narcissa herself quelled Hermione's fears, stating that she would never allow her precious hairbrush, a present from her dear sister Bellatrix, to be sullied by even touching the flesh of a Mudblood.

'Well, Miss Granger, I am not surprised that you are still here either. Still can't get the birds to sing?' came a soft but measured reply, frighteningly reminding Hermione of Bellatrix's teasing tones.

'I already ate one canary. Shall you be the next?' quipped Hermione.

Narcissa's eyes whipped up to stare into Hermione's, blazing with hatred. After a few seconds, Narcissa realised Hermione's words to ring true and snarled. She went back to her original position of sitting daintily on the edge of her bed, brushing her silver gold locks. Hermione enjoyed visiting Narcissa the most because despite her demeanor, she was brilliant to behold. Hermione never bothered to play mind games with Narcissa.

'Did you kill Lucius, Mrs Malfoy?'

'No, Miss Granger, I did not. He is my husband. Why on earth would you think that?'

'You are in Azkaban, aren't you?'

'Yes I am, but it is a mistake. I am innocent.'

'Isn't it true that Lucius had six other wives besides yourself?'

'So I was told. I never knew about it until I was placed here.'

'Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure that you did not know about Lucius' six other wives who all happened to be Muggles?'

'_Lucius! I can SMELL it! I can SMELL your betrayal! Does love and honour mean nothing to you? Did I not vow myself to you as you did to me?'_

_Lucius Malfoy regretted not taking a shower before returning to his mansion._

'_Go take a shower! The stench of Muggle women disgusts me as much as you do!'_

_Lucius spelled himself clean & smells of arousal free, and wrapped an arm around Narcissa from behind. He kissed her neck. He licked her collarbone and proceeded to undress his furious wife. Narcissa slapped his hands away and pulled herself out of his embrace._

'_Go wash yourself properly. I can't stand the sight of you.'_

'_Cissy. I love you. Please don't misunderstand. I'm not cheating on you. I simply love more than just you. I can love more than one woman, but you I love more than the others. I married you first, because I love you the most.'_

_Narcissa shoved him away from her again, waiting till he had gone upstairs before she let herself fall to the ground, shaking. He loved her the most, but he didn't love only her. He kept secrets from her. Lucius had said "others"… He had MORE than one woman on the side._

_Later that night, Draco Malfoy returned home to discover his father dead in his favourite chair, a half finished drink in hand._

Narcissa bristled. Hermione smiled at her.

'Is it also true that you killed each and every one of those women?'

'We are done talking today. Please see yourself out Miss Granger.'

Hermione chuckled. She had definitely cracked Narcissa a little more. She hadn't quite gotten through completely today, but that would be okay. She didn't mind having to come back another day. There was one more thing she needed to say to tide Narcissa over till their next session.

'Before I leave, I have to inform you something.'

'And what would that be?'

'You missed one.'

Hermione laughed to herself at Narcissa's scream of animalistic rage muffled as the door was locked shut. The guard seemed to shrink away from Hermione. She simply sneered at him, knowing that she was considered by some to be as fearsome as the inmates.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hermione stepped in the cell after staring at the name plastered on the door for at least 5 minutes. Lavender Weasley. Lavender was Ron's wife. Was being the operative word. Ron was now buried under six feet of dirt in the Weasley family plot besides two of his older brothers. This realisation made Hermione grateful that things never worked out between Ron and herself. The Weasley's have had several funerals over the last few years.

Hermione remembered Molly crying endlessly because she couldn't even give Ron an open coffin funeral because his body was much too full of holes, as was his face. Lavender was probably the only inmate to have actually gone insane. The murder of her husband was bloody and gory enough to have caused it.

Right now, she was crouched over a drain, making stabbing movements with the air in her hands. Hermione coughed to get the dirty blonde's attention.

'Squish.'

'Hello Mrs Weasley. How are you today?'

'Squish.'

'May I talk with you?'

'Squish.'

'We need to discuss Ronald, your husband. We need to discuss what happened to him.'

Lavender tensed up all of a sudden and she clutched at herself, wailing. She curled up into the foetal position, crying out aloud, 'I didn't sleep with Ginny! It was an accident! I didn't sleep with Ginny! It was an accident! I didn't sleep with Ginny! It was an accident!'

She screamed this every time Hermione mentioned Ron's name.

_Lavender had decided to try and cook dinner by hand, the Muggle way. Or at least it was considered the Muggle way nowadays. Most young Wizarding couples went out to eat, leaving home meals to be conjured up or frozen dinners to be heated up by use of "Incendio". Lavender however, had been taking some lessons from Ginny, who of course had been practicing with her mother._

_Lavender had been so excited to surprise Ron with a home cooked meal. She had bought a large organic chicken from the supermarket, making sure to collect all the right spices that Ron favoured. She made sure to buy extra potatoes too because Ron always ate more._

_Several hours later, there was a delicious and heady aroma wafting throughout the kitchen and home of Ron and Lavender Weasley. Their child Primrose, five years old, was out in the backyard. Ron Weasley exited his car, stopping momentarily to have a quick kiss and cuddle from little Primrose, only to storm into the house. Lavender was carefully slicing the chicken with a large knife._

'_How DARE you fuck my sister? What the fuck kind of wife are you?'_

_Lavender spun around, summoning her wand to hastily cast a silencing charm on the backyard door so Primrose would not be subjected to anymore of Ron's foul language._

'_Ronald! What on earth are you talking about? I would never do such a thing!'_

'_I KNOW you've been seeing her secretly for quite a bit lately! It's one thing for my sister to be a dyke, but my WIFE? Why would you fuck around with my sister when you have me?'_

'_I've been spending time with her AND your mother to learn how to cook this chicken! I wanted to surprise you!'_

'_Stop lying! YOU WILL NOT FUCKING EMBARRASS ME ANYMORE!'_

_Lavender screamed as Ron came at her with balled fists. It wasn't until she opened her eyes and saw the knife that was still clutched in her hand had somehow lodged itself into Ron's ribcage. Ron simply grunted in shock, but soon his face became enraged again. He pulled himself off the knife and grabbed her hair roughly._

'_You'd stab your own bloody husband?'_

_Lavender screamed again and thrust the knife purposely. And she did it again. And again._

'And again, and again, and again… There was so much blood…. I was so scared…'

Hermione had sit closer to hear Lavender properly. Suddenly Lavender leapt forward, grabbing Hermione's collar.

'It was an accident!'

'I know Lavender. The autopsy ruled the first cut as accidental, but the rest... You wanted him dead.'

'No! I never wanted Ron dead! I was so scared! It was self defence!'

Hermione snickered at this. She had "interviewed" Parvati Patil. According to Lavender's best friend, before the incident, Lavender had often told her about her plans to leave Ron, about how she wished he was dead so that she could keep the house. Certainly, she may not have planned on stabbing her husband to death with their daughter right outside, but the end was what she had envisioned. The house was hers. If only she were out of Azkaban to enjoy her spoils. Instead, the house is empty. Primrose is going to grow up under the care of Molly Weasley.

'I know you were scared. I know you are scared in here.'

Lavender scrambled to Hermione's open arms. Hermione brought up a hand, smearing the fresh tears away from Lavender's eyes with a slight tenderness. Lavender stared into the sympathetic eyes of Hermione. Hermione leaned in closer and gave the sobbing woman the slightest brush of lips, only to have Lavender attack her mouth vigorously and desperately. Nothing like desperation to put a woman on edge.

Hermione only needed to gently caress Lavender's hips and arms and legs before the widow was straddling her. Lavender practically sucked Hermione's tongue into her own mouth, hands around the back of Hermione's head. Hermione quickly extricated herself and cast a wandless shield charm around herself. Lavender shrieked and banged her hands against solid nothingness.

'Please! I'm so scared!'

'Lavender, I can't help you if you won't admit to yourself that it became more than an accident.'

'It WAS an accident!

'Is that really true? I don't believe you. Why are you lying to me Lavender? I thought you wanted me to help you.'

'I do! I do!'

Lavender wrapped her arms around and bounced up and down on her heels. She groaned and clutched at her dirty skirt.

'What's the matter Lavender?'

'I want… I want you to touch me.'

'Why?'

'I… I don't know. Please, just touch me.'

Hermione removed the shield charm and grasped Lavender, bringing into her body. With one hand she gripped Lavender's hair and jerked it backwards, eliciting a frightened gasp. She covered Lavender's mouth with hers and moaned into the kiss. They moved towards the bed. Hermione snaked her hand up Lavender's skirt and up her thighs.

Hermione's hand encountered a sopping mess, allowing easy access to Lavender's quivering centre. Lavender's body seemed as if it were attempting to force Hermione's hand to become one with it. Lavender suddenly clutched Hermione, legs wrapped tightly around her waist and arms enclosed around her neck with hands gripping the brunette's back. Hermione obligingly pumped three fingers into Lavender. Hermione placed her lips near Lavender's ear.

'Tell me what you felt when Ron was about to beat you and I'll let you come.'

Lavender babbled at the sensation of Hermione's thrusting fingers. She was pushing herself against Hermione for all she was worth, but Hermione had slowed her ministrations. Lavender let out a shriek of frustration and poured out her heart.

'I wanted to kill him!'

'Good girl.' Hermione murmured into Lavender's ear before plunging her fingers again, and then using her other hand to pinch Lavender's clit.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

'Luna. I never thought I would see you here.'

'Hermione. Why are you doing this?'

'What do you mean?'

'I can smell them on you. It's disgusting. I never thought you'd become such a despicable person.'

Hermione is taken aback by Luna's severely undreamy tone and stern words. Was that eccentric personality a sham after all? Or perhaps the war had been able to make a shell out of even Loony Lovegood.

'I'm despicable? Let's talk about why _you_ are in Azkaban, Luna.'

'It's a mistake. I'm not guilty.'

'Really? The poor babbling Muggles that I had to treat would say otherwise. Apparently a woman with long blonde hair pointed a stick at them and then there was pain.'

'You know I didn't hurt those women Hermione. Please. You know it was Narcissa Malfoy.'

'Why should I help you Luna? What's in it for me?'

Hermione wanted to laugh at the disappearance of the shadow of hope that Luna was holding on to. Hermione was pretty sure that she had just singlehandedly killed what remained of the Luna Lovegood that she knew back in Hogwarts.

Luna fell to her knees. Hermione raised a brow. Luna sighed deeply, moving to unzip Hermione's jeans.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

'I want to thank you for telling me about Lavender. You've helped me immensely. I can get her conviction increased now. It's now murder instead of manslaughter.'

Parvati leapt at Hermione, screaming all sorts of profanity.

'YOU LIED TO ME! YOU SAID I COULD HELP LAVENDER! YOU BITCH! YOU HORRIBLE CONNIVING BITCH!'

Hermione, forever adept at wandless magic, forced Parvati to sit in a chair.

'_Incarcerous_.'

Parvati continued to spew curses, this time in other languages. Hermione chuckled and settled herself to straddle Parvati's legs. She let out a short of burst of laughter at Parvati's attempt to head butt her.

'Instead of condemning me for what I've done, why don't you tell me about what happened at the Leaky Cauldron?'

Parvati stilled & became ever so silent.

'What? Nothing? Surely not. I heard that you were put here because you are the horrible conniving bitch.'

Parvati glared at Hermione, trying to violently rock the chair so that Hermione would be forced to get off her. Instead, Hermione laughed louder than before and used her legs to anchor herself around the furious Parvati. She pushed out her chest slightly and made a show of rubbing the front of her jeans against Parvati's stomach. Parvati stopped trying to rock over.

'Get off me….! Please… I'm sorry… I…'

'You're what, Parvati? You're sorry? You killed your own sister and your husband! Sorry doesn't even being to cover it.'

'I don't know what happened. I must have blacked out after…'

'After what?'

_Parvati was still thrilled about her wonderful idea that had lead to tonight's celebrations. She and Padma were using the most basic spells, hidden under the guises of fake magic, of course, to amaze young Muggle children. Seamus, her husband, was their spruiker. He dealt with the marketing and promotion of their business, while Padma ensured that they were not breaking Wizarding Law. With Harry Potter as acting Minister of Magic, there was a lot more freedom in terms of casting spells. Of course there were still restrictions on most spells, but the more harmless ones, with the care of no obvious wandwork, Wizarding folk in England were allowed to cast minor spells. Simple transfiguration of dust to rabbits, or even charming colour changing bubbles were part of the Patil twins' repertoire._

_She had gone down momentarily to ask Tom for some ice. They had run out. There was plenty of champagne of course. With her wand out in front of her, she levitated the bucket of ice into the room before her. The bucket hit the floor. Parvati screamed at the sight of her sister mounted on top of Seamus. Even as she turned to plead understanding from her sister, Padma groaned in pleasure. She shouldn't have remained on top of Seamus. The sight coupled with the sound a sister should never ever have to hear, Parvati had pointed her wand at her wide eyed sister. A green light and words that Parvati couldn't hear escape her own mouth were the last that Padma ever saw and heard. Seamus was not so lucky for the quick death._

_For at least a few minutes Parvati had cursed him with the Cruciatus curse, only to Imperius him into jumping out of the room window. As she gazed at his mangled body, limbs splayed at inhuman angles, Parvati fell back onto the bed that was covered in bodily fluids of the ones she loved. The bright lights gave her a headache. She squinted and felt herself succumb to darkness, unconsciousness._

'I see…'

'I think I went insane for that short time. Hermione, please help me. I won't survive nor get better if I have to stay in Azkaban! I should be in St. Mungo's for all the trauma that I've suffered!'

Hermione grabbed Parvati's face, covering her captive's mouth with one hand, leaning forward to whisper in an ear.

'I would concede that Padma's death was a crime of passion. You will, perhaps, only get a lesser degree of murder. But Seamus… If only you had just Avada Kedavra'd him, which would give you the same charge… But no, you Crucio'd him before sending him to his death out a window. All the bones in his body were broken, you know. It was awful. Those two curses have a lot less crime of passion believability. That tends to insinuate premeditated murder, or at least the Ministry would probably assume that you had pre-existing feelings of the like about Seamus. Am I right?'

Parvati's eyes had changed from wide and desperate to lifeless and downcast.

'Mm, thought so.'

Hermione slowly let her hand leave Parvati's mouth.

'Nope, sorry, I don't help the criminal.'

The first bad idea she had performed all day.

Parvati suddenly thrust her head forward and bit into Hermione's right hand for all she was worth. Hermione howled horrifically, trying to yank out her captured limb, using her left hand to bash Parvati's face. After several punches Parvati let go, leaving Hermione with a pinky half dangling off. Hermione screamed at the sight of the bone protruding from the wrecked flesh.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

'I smell blood and antiseptic. What 'ave you been doing my love?'

Hermione spared a quick glance at her bandaged hand. She glared at Fleur, annoyed that the incarcerated woman still looked so stunning. The barest light that entered from a crack in a grimy window was adequate in illuminating Fleur's figure.

Hermione prickled at the feel of Fleur's Veela heritage pushing against her sanity. She hated the way Fleur made her feel, like a child who would never understand what the adults were talking about. Fleur's voice put Hermione on edge, it made her want to strip and humiliate herself. She knew that Fleur would never be nor represent goodness in her life, but it didn't stop Hermione from wanting Fleur and her luscious body.

'This morning has been quite eventful. And don't call me that.'

'Why not? You are my love, ma amour. Je t'aime.'

'How can you still say that? After all that you put me through, after all that fucking around with Bill and you still maintain that you love me?'

Hermione saw a flash of hurt and regret on Fleur's face, only to be disguised by sneering contempt.

'Per'aps you should 'ave paid more attention to me zen ma amour. You were always so busy doing ozzer zhings, you neglected me. Even now, I know you left me till last.'

Hermione kept her back to the door. She didn't want to go near Fleur in case she was tempted again, like last time. Fleur was similar to Narcissa, able to survive when they needed to, despite conditions.

'Enough about us. Why did you kill Bill, Fleur?'

'Zat is none of your business.'

'Don't you want to get out of here?'

'Of course I do! Don't be ridiculous 'ermione!'

'Then tell me what happened, maybe we can get a plea bargain.'

Fleur walked towards Hermione, encircling the tensed up brunette in an intimate embrace.

'Still looking out for me, I see?'

'Come on Fleur, I can't help you if you don't even talk to me about what happened.'

'ave you seen 'is body?'

'No, why?'

'If you did, zen you would see zat I did not kill 'im. Or at least, I did not mean to.'

Hermione summoned the guard outside to bring her the documents related to Fleur's case. The file contained photos of the crime scene. Bill's body was splayed out on a bed. There was blood everywhere but it was impossible to miss the star of the photos. Bill's penis was completely cut off from his groin. Teeth marks were visible. Hermione rushed to the cell toilet to retch up her breakfast.

_Bill loved having Fleur suck his cock. In fact, he loved having his cock sucked by any woman that went home with him. He loved the feeling of suction that just wasn't as strong when he was in her other orifice. He didn't care when Fleur complained about being choked. He didn't care when any of his one night stands complained of being choked._

_This particular night, Fleur was moody and certainly not pleased at being choked yet again. When she stopped, he slapped her. He shouldn't have, she still had her mouth on him after all. But he was so very drunk. He grabbed her head, pushed his hips forward and reached to grab her arse, squeezing it tightly. Fleur let out a muffled scream as his knee connected with her lower jaw, her teeth clamping down tightly. Bill was too shocked to realise that his prized appendage had been bitten off. Fleur spat it at him, throwing herself backwards, away from his immediate radius._

_She watched in horror as he slumped over, blood pouring from his groin all over the ivory sheets._

'It was his own fault. So you'll be charged with manslaughter. I'm sure I can convince Colin Creevey to represent you. Surprisingly, the little snot has become quite the lawyer.'

Fleur touched Hermione's face gently, caressing a cheek. Hermione momentarily closed her eyes to enjoy the soft sensation. The moment was all Fleur needed to slam Hermione into a wall, pinning her with her body. Fleur kissed Hermione with a ferocity that was reciprocated. They released each other's mouths to suck and nip each other's necks and shoulders.

Fleur pulled Hermione up, wrapping the shorter woman's legs around herself, using her shoulder to keep Hermione painfully above ground. Hermione's zipper was ripped away and Fleur quickly thrust her fingers into the waiting wetness. Hermione moaned and ground her hips and clit onto Fleur's hand.

They were so quiet verbally that Fleur's guard only ever heard thumping, never a gasp nor moan.

Luna Lovegood was released later that day, but with no apologies nor explanations from the authorities. She shivered before she apparated to her home. She didn't care that the authorities had failed her. She was more worried about herself and how she could stay away from Hermione Granger for the rest of her life. Even if she did still keep a shred of her Gryffindor honour.

**THE END**

**Dark!fic huh? How'd I do? Enough gore and disturbing smut? Review. You know you want to.**

**Don't forget, this is just a fic. I disclaim everything.**


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